


Mission Planning

by cauldronofdoom



Series: mob-verse [8]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M, Pepper and Howard discussed only, no cameos of them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-13
Updated: 2012-08-13
Packaged: 2017-11-12 01:41:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/485254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cauldronofdoom/pseuds/cauldronofdoom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Options are discussed. Plans are made. Things are starting to move. Set the same day as 'Covert Operations'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mission Planning

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday to reddwarfer, who was the one nice enough to give me an AO3 code. Enjoy your day!

“Mmmph! How are you even moving?” Tony moaned, shifting further onto his stomach and burying his face in the pillows. 

“I need to see what Hardy and Romanov found at SI. Besides, I haven’t had as many orgasms as you, so I’m a little less wrung out. If I stay, I might be tempted to try and catch up.” Steve dropped a kiss on the back of Tony’s neck. “No one gets to hurt you, Tony. That includes me.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me.” Tony replied, and Steve felt his throat close up at the way it was said. Like a religious belief. Like a universal law. Like a truth.

“No, I wouldn’t. And that’s why I’m heading upstairs. Come join me later, if you feel up to it.” 

“You don’t need to go upstairs to not hurt me.” Tony grouched into the bed, his voice distorted almost past understanding. “And what if I don’t feel up to it?”

Steve ran his hand down Tony’s back just to see him shiver. “Then I’ll come join you. If you can’t, or don’t, come find me, I’ll always come for you.”

Tony sighed happily and drifted back into sleep. Steve paused in the act of buttoning up his shirt to press another kiss to the back of Tony’s neck and to turn his face slightly to the side so he wasn’t trying to breath through the bedding. He kind of wanted to stay, to draw Tony like this. However, duty called, and vengeance didn’t wait for anyone.   
*  
“So what did you find?” He asked as he walked into the front room. Romanov was sitting at the computer terminal, her back to him, with Hardy leaning over her shoulder and gesturing while Barton looked on. They, and Tony himself, were the only people that needed to be in on the debrief. All Banner, Thor, and Steve knew about the op was second hand information.

The other two weren’t even still in the building. Banner was already headed to Cage’s house to help with cleaning and stitching a wound Monroe had gotten earlier. It was a minor altercation, just a few drunks that saw a lone woman and thought she’d be easy prey. Still, better safe than sorry, and Banner had a way with stitches. Thor was over at Logan’s, preparing for his second op of the night. This one was a simple collections job. The guy had a bit of a mouth on him and liked to play the tough, so it was just easier to send Van Dyne to handle the zingers and Thor to loom and glower. Loki got protection for his business and got to keep his dignity, Steve got his money and intel, and Van Dyne got to get out and snark. For all it was a simple gambling ring, it was one of Steve’s favourite partnerships. 

“Some interesting new land mines.” Barton answered, pointing to some diagrams covering one corner of the screen.

“Some work with the arc reactor.” Hardy chimed in, pointing at different documents. “They’re taking the research of that astrophysicist Thor’s crushing on and trying to modify one of her theories on hyperspace travel into producing green energy.” They looked at her in surprise. Physics wasn’t exactly her forte. She sniffed at them, but continued. “Peter suspected, just from some of the stuff Tony’s found, and told me that the worry over CERN would be nothing if they manage to mess this up.”

“A possible replacement for Stane as CEO when this all comes down.” Romanov stated distractedly, flipping through what looked like random paperwork. All of them quickly focussed on her, though she didn’t seem to notice. 

“Explain.” Steve demanded, leaning over the shoulder not occupied by a leather-clad teenager. 

“It’s one of the junior PAs for Stane. Specifically, the one that liaises between R&D and upper management. Stane’s got a few like the unlamented Hammer in his corner: Ineffective, petty, easily distracted, and easily played. One of the things that distracts them is pretty girls, hence the hiring of people like Ms. Bain, Ms. Fujikawa, and Ms. Potts as their junior PAs. It made it quite easy to slip Morse in there, too.” Romanov recited, only to by cut off by Barton.

“Oh, is that where Bobbi’s been for the last month? I was wondering about that!”

Steve silenced him with a look before gesturing for Romanov to continue. “Since she’s the newest, Morse has been put in the keeping of the least influential of these women, Ms. Virginia Potts. It was actually Morse who first put me on the trail, or I’d probably never have noticed the patterns.

“Since she won’t sleep with her bosses, Ms. Potts is serving a sort of internal exile. Apparently, the idea is that being the only attractive woman in R&D will drive anyone to agree to sleep with Vanko, Razzik, or Stane himself. Morse is pretending she’s got a boyfriend, specifically Barton, in the military, so they’re being subtle, for them, so far. She’s playing up the blonde thing, too, so she has a plausible excuse for not noticing their advances. 

“Anyway, Morse noticed that Potts has… odd priority protocols. For example, she only brings the information from the ‘green energy’ division that researches harnessing antimatter to one of the Board members who distrusts ‘newfangled’ ideas, and only just before lunch or after four on a Friday. He never signs off on their proposals. They should be going to Vanko for signing, but they never quite make it to his desk. He does get the ideas for building a better arc reactor, so his division is working on a more efficient nuclear energy than the usual reactors, without the radiation worries, and one far less likely to tear apart the fabric of reality than the perversions of Dr. Foster’s work.”

She pointed to another paper that she’d just brought up. “This was in the interoffice mail that Stark’s been siphoning off for us. Stane doesn’t know how it happened, but it appears that the proposal for better maternity leave and child-care benefits went to the one woman who is both quite active in equality movements and too powerful to ignore. Any of the other members would have nixed the idea long before it became anything more than an idea, but now it’s a powerful matron’s latest crusade. Potts is listed as the witness to Mrs. Arborgast’s signature.

“Most of them skip right over the witness’ signatures on these, since it’s almost always either the PA running delivery or one of the company’s lawyers. She’s hiding her work in plain sight, but Potts has a finger in every smoothly running, acceptably safe, and appropriately healthy policy, plan, and procedure SI’s considered, implemented, or proposed for at least the last three years.”

Steve considered this information for a moment before filing it away. He needed to know more about her before he could do anything about the surprising Ms. Potts. In the meantime, “Barton, take the weapons information to Coulson, have a package ready for SHIELD corp. in the morning. That’ll be their teaser for what they’ll own when they swallow up SI. Hardy, get me Lewis. She should be at Parker’s today. Do not get distracted by Peter until she’s out the door. Romanov, get me as much intel as you can on Potts. High school teams, education history, sports teams, anything. We’re looking for behavioural patterns, not psychological pressure points.” He nodded at them in dismissal, then headed off. They could do their own jobs, and he still needed to check in with Danvers.

She’d been checking out a young ‘psychic’ new to town. He didn’t know if the girl had any affiliations, or if she was just working on her own. He put no thought into if she actually could tell the future. He knew that was ridiculous. It was, however, a good way to get secrets from more gullible people, like the vapid wives of important people. That wasn’t a resource he wanted falling into the hands of Hydra, or AIM, or Doom. He didn’t know, yet, if she was going to turn into a recruit, a contact, or if she would need to be eliminated. He hoped not the last one, but it was still kinder than the ‘persuasions’ other factions would use if they got to her first.  
*  
Even a good bout of sex couldn’t keep Tony down when his brain was running. He’d gotten used to sleeping on a schedule over the last three months, ever since the trouble with him keeping secrets at the very beginning. It had been further reinforced by six weeks of actually sharing Steve’s bed, not just adjusting to his sleep schedule so sex fit in easier. That meant that he slept roughly from 11 AM to 7PM daily. 

The sun wouldn’t even be up after his nap, the bedside clock informed him. That meant he’d get no sleep if he tried to stay in bed until Steve came back. Then Steve would be grouchy because Tony would either be tossing and turning or he’d run off to the lab when he should be sleeping. 

The idea of Steve being grouch was enough to make Tony pull himself out of bed and drag some clothes on. Half of them were Steve’s, but both of them actually preferred that. Then, yawning and stumbling, he made his way up the stairs.

Clint and Coulson both looked up as he exited the basement. The older man went right back to his papers, but Clint smirked at Tony instead. “Someone looks a little rough. Field work not your forte?” He asked, and Tony flipped him off before stretching languorously.

“I’m not sure if it should be in the top five best or worst things about sex with Steve, but my muscles may as well be jello after, and my bones have the apparent strength of wet noodles. Makes it a little difficult to walk, you know.” Clint laughed, and Tony could see Coulson’s lips twitching. The man wasn’t quite as straight-laced as he affected, and Tony’s impassioned assertion that ‘Phil’ was a mass hallucination and that his first name was actually ‘Agent’ had won him a special place in the other man’s heart.

 

At least, that’s what Maria insisted the increased paperwork meant. Tony wasn’t fully convinced it wasn’t actually Coulson’s shit-list, and the quirk in her lips during the discussion hadn’t sold him either.

“There’s a ‘Five Worst Things’ about sex with the Captain?” Jan asked, sailing into the room with an unconscious grace and elegance that made her fit in with any group of gossiping girls, no matter their class. She was already back from talking with Loki, and looking to entertain herself here for a few hours. 

Tony winked at her, always happy to overshare. “Yeah. Number one is that unless we’re talking about me, there’s no such thing as a ‘quickie’. That guy has stamina marathon runners would kill for.”

Jan’s laugh was one of the reasons Tony called her ‘Tinkerbelle’. “Why do I get the feeling that all the top five are also the bottom five?” She teased, and Tony grinned.

“Current studies favour the hypothesis that there is no such thing as a bad part of sex with Steve Rogers, just that mere mortal bodies are incapable of truly appreciating just how great it is.”

Jan’s lips were twitching, and there was a faint tremor in Coulson’s shoulders. Clint wasn’t even pretending not to laugh, but the others ignored him. Half the fun was the supposed earnestness of the conversation. “And are these studies performed with proper, scientifically rigorous methods? Sample groups? A control?”

Tony opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by strong arms wrapping around his waist. “Nope.” Steve replied cheerfully. “Tony, I’ve told you before: If you keep bragging, they’re going to get curious. It’s bad enough tripping over them and their stopwatches when I leave the bedroom, I don’t want to have to fend off ‘scientific’ propositions, too.”

Tony dropped the thread of the banter in an instant, turning instead to nuzzle his face into Steve’s neck. “Hey you! Any chance you could make me food?”

Steve laughed and tugged him into the kitchen. “How you survived ten years on your own, I’ll never know.”

Tony wrinkled his nose. “Caf food. Sandwiches. Pickles out of the jar and milk out of the jug. Burgers. Cereal. Fruit. Well, not fruit so much. I’d forget about it and it’d rot on the counter. Peanut butter. Oh! Did you know icing comes in cans? Or I’d get people to bribe me with food for tutoring and homework help. Barter system, you know?”

Tony didn’t quite have a name for the expression on Steve’s face. It was something like impressed, horrified amusement. The man just shook his head and pulled some leftovers out of the fridge. “You should probably learn to actually cook, you know,” He said as he stuck them in the microwave.

Tony gave him puppy eyes. “But now you cook for me! Or I look pathetic until one of the girls takes pity on me. Oh, and Thor! Thor can cook! Hey, have you ever had some of Jarvis’ muffins? That man makes a mean muffin, I’ll have you know.” Steve smiled helplessly and kissed Tony’s temple as he put the food on the table in front of them. 

“We’ll discuss the culinary aptitudes of various mobsters at a different time. For now, I have something else to ask you.” Tony gestured for him to continue, so Steve went on. “What do you know of Virginia Potts?”  
*  
If you’d asked Steve what he expected Tony’s response to be, he’d probably have said he expected Tony not to know her. Or to say something like ‘She works at SI, right?’ Possibly even ‘I’ve seen her around. We ate lunch at the same table once.’

He would never have expected Tony’s face to light up like it did at the mention of the name. “Pepper? She’s only the nicest and best employee SI’s ever had! Seriously, that girl’s a whiz. She’s got the Board dancing to her tune without them even realizing it.” He smiled in fond remembrance. “She was my PA for a few months, did you know? Stane hired her for me. I think he expected her to be another ambitious bimbo for me to play with. She’s dating Happy, though. Happy’s one of the company drivers, and he was the one to recommend her to HR. Stane just takes an hour every month or so to ‘drop in’ on the new hires, and he promoted her from accounting to PA without bothering to ask if she was single. We had a good laugh at that. I liked Happy. He let me drive half the time. The others were all boring.”

“Tell me about what she’s doing with the board.” Steve encouraged, and it didn’t take much for Tony to chatter about one of his favourite people. What it basically boiled down to was that Romanov was totally correct. Originally she’d started it to cheer up Tony after his dramatic fall from grace. Then, when they’d discovered just how easy it was to push things in the directions approved of by the man that was actually supposed to be running the show, she’d done it for the good of the company and under Tony’s direction. She couldn’t convince them to actually stop building weapons, but that had been the turning point. Three years previously, 90% of SI’s profits were military. By the time Tony had abruptly left, it accounted for just under 70%. It was a huge shift for a company of that size, and Tony was perfectly willing to sing odes to the ‘amazingness incarnate’ that was Ms. Virginia ‘Pepper’ Potts. 

“What do you think of Pepper running SI?” Steve broke in, and Tony’s face unaccountably fell into a vicious scowl.

“She’d be incredible at it. It would be the absolute best thing for the company. But that’s never going to happen because the Board are a bunch of misogynistic assholes who wouldn’t recognize talent and leadership if they danced naked in front of them.” He replied bitterly. “I mean, they would have given me the company easily if not for Stane’s scheming, and I’d have probably accidentally ruined it without someone like her to take the reins when needed. I mean, I would’ve learned eventually, but those first years would have been rough, you know? But Pepper! She did all of those leadership things in high school, and managed to turn a somewhat infamous sorority house into a bastion of equal rights and inclusion during college. And she’s never going to get a chance, because the business world is an Old Boy’s world, and they’ll never let her in the club.”

Steve knocked his head against Tony’s softly, just enough to distract him from his scowl. “It’s a good thing SHIELD has an anti-discrimination policy, yes? It’s not like we weren’t planning on getting the whole Board replaced, anyway. Trust me, neither Fury nor Sitwell will care about any part of her but her brain in assigning positions, and the person she’d likely be working closest with would be Sharon Carter, who is also a woman.”

Tony’s face lit up again, but this time it was with a bit more unholy glee and a bit less enthusiastic approval. “If she’s in charge, getting rid of the board wouldn’t even be that big a deal. Making them answer to her, when she’s turned down persistent advances from at least half of them, would be poetic justice in its own right.”

Steve smiled and ruffled Tony’s hair. “No promises, of course, but we’ll see. She’s the best choice so far, but I’m still going to look into it a little deeper before deciding.”

Tony nodded and went back to his dinner. “So,” He finally drawled, trying really hard to be casual about it, “What were those papers we found in Stane’s office?”

Steve just raised an eyebrow. That was… not the question he was expecting. “How would I know?” He asked curiously. “You haven’t told me.”

Tony’s head snapped up so fast Steve winced in sympathy. “You didn’t look at them?” He asked incredulously, and Steve shrugged. 

“You said it yourself, they’re yours. Chances are, at ten years old, they hold nothing to interest anyone else. Their only value is to you, and is likely sentimental.”

Tony fidgeted for a moment, obviously thinking. “After dinner, can we go look at them? I… I’d like you to be with me when I do. Please?” He sounded so nervous and lost that Steve couldn’t resist tilting his chin up and kissing him sweetly. 

“Of course. You only ever needed to ask.”  
*  
Tony was very nervous about what was in the papers his Dad had hidden. He tried not to let it show, but he knew Steve had noticed. He’d felt a guilty sort of relief when he’d considered how late in the day it was when he’d gone back upstairs. He thought Steve would have looked through them, and he could just ask what was in there. Knowing that he couldn’t tied his stomach in knots, and he was very glad he’d already finished most of his dinner.

“Not hungry?” Steve asked, giving Tony an understanding look. Tony shrugged, not sure what to say. Steve pulled the rest of his food over and shoveled it in while Tony brooded.

He hadn’t had anything of his father for years. Stane had cleared out the business things within days of Howard’s death, and there had always been little of the man in his home besides his work. With schematics, prototypes, paperwork, and specialized tools gone, Tony had been left with a few pictures of the family that had been taken specifically to hang on the walls and an almost complete socket wrench set. 

Almost complete, because four of the pieces had actually been part of Tony’s own set, and gotten accidentally mixed in. Tony’d also bought three of the five spare 3/8 ends that everyone who had ever worked on a car knew you needed. 

Tony had kept the set right up until his ‘death’. He knew Steve would have gotten it for him, if he’d told the other of its importance, but Tony had considered it to dangerous to take. Stane would have noticed it being gone. 

He idly wondered what had happened to it, a thought he hadn’t allowed himself to entertain before. He hoped Stane didn’t have it. Even it being thrown out would be better than it being in his hands. Where else could it have gotten to, though? Tony didn’t have a will, so everything he owned would have gone back to Stane, as his next of kin. 

Depressing as the thought was, Tony clung to it to distract himself from the thoughts of the papers. Then Steve’s hand on his shoulder pulled him out of his musings, and he looked up.

“Do you want to look at them here, or in the living room? Or we could take them downstairs, if you’d prefer.” Tony couldn’t help smiling at how kind Steve was being.

“Downstairs? Just, I’d rather not…” Cry in front of everyone, if it comes to that, he finished mentally, but just shrugged for Steve’s benefit. The man nodded, squeezing Tony’s shoulder in support before pulling him up and escorting him from the room.

It was Steve that snagged the papers as they walked through the house, Steve that steered them downstairs, opening and closing doors. Then they were in Steve’s room, and Steve was pulling Tony down to sit on the bed. He slid in behind the smaller man, wrapping both hands around Tony’s middle and resting his chin on one convenient shoulder. “Whenever you’re ready.” Steve murmured in Tony’s ear, but Tony only had attention for the papers in his lap.

He remembered the one on top. He’d just learned about the lunar landing, and had set out to design his own rocket. He remembered thinking Daddy can make it, and then him and Mommy and Jarvis and me can all go on adventures! In real life, Tony had brought it to his father’s attention and promptly gotten a lecture on not going into the workshop and not disrupting his father when he was working. Then Howard had pulled out a red pen and started correcting the design, pointing out with ruthless and cutting logic where Tony had messed up. Tony had ended up fleeing the room in tears, followed by the relentless count of his failures. He’d never asked for it back, though he’d created a new one with all Howard’s corrections included. It had lived under his pillow for years, and he’d built a miniature prototype at six that ended up blowing up the greenhouse. 

His mother had been hysterical once he’d emerged, coughing and bleeding from a good dozen small scrapes. Howard hadn’t said anything, but, looking back on it for the first time in years, Tony thought his old man might have been smiling.

He’d certainly never seen the words scrawled in the corner. Tony drew this at age three. If you cannot send me project designs with at least this level of thought, competence, and skill, then I shall have to go find a new head engineer.

How many people had seen this? How many adults had Howard scathingly compared to a child? How long had this lived in his desk, pulled out to make a point?

How long had Howard actually been proud of Tony for designing it?

He laid the paper to the side, his hands shaking. There was no one but Steve to see, and all he did was laugh softly at the message. “So you’ve always been brilliant and whimsical?” He asked, nuzzling at Tony’s neck, and Tony found himself smiling. 

“Pretty much. I built one at six with the corrections you can see. It blew up the greenhouse.”

“Of course you did.” There was a hint of exasperation in Steve’s voice, and he kissed the edge of Tony’s jaw. “So you’re saying I should be happy my house is still standing, hmm?”

“Hey!” He protested, for form’s sake. “I’m a lot better with safety precautions now!”

“Mmhmm.” Steve agreed, “That’s why your hair was standing straight on end and you kept shocking everyone after your first try at the taser bracelets.” Tony snorted a laugh, knowing well what Steve’s response to the shock he’d gotten had been. He’d been almost as angry as the secrets had made him, and Tony had gotten a scathing lecture on the importance of not a) shorting out the house, b) burning down the house, or c) killing himself. They’d laughed about it later, but it had been a tense two days of Tony slinking through rooms Steve was in and retiring early to his own bed before Steve had cornered him in the kitchen, kissed him roughly, and explained that he didn’t like any of his people being injured, and couldn’t Tony just take the extra two minutes to be careful?

He didn’t always remember in his enthusiasm, but he was getting better. His old TAs would have fainted if they’d seen him behaving himself this much.

The next paper was a weapon, something even more dangerous than what SI was producing now. There was a large X through the diagram, and the words Too close to a megalomaniac’s doomsday device. Use on the planet and die yourself.

Tony just stared at it with his eyebrows as close to his hairline as they could get. ”I haven’t a clue why he kept this.” He admitted. “For defence against the mothership, I guess.” He set it to the side opposite from the spaceship design. “This will be the ‘burn’ pile.”

Steve’s arms tightened slightly, and Tony patted his hand to reassure him. As long as they got rid of that paper, there was no way for it to hurt Tony. They hadn’t built it, he wasn’t surprised that his father could create something that deadly, and the only two people who knew about it would never talk about it. Even if SHIELD would pay well for the design, this wasn’t something Steve was any more prepared than Tony to sell.

The next sheet was a copy of Howard’s will, dated a week before his death. There was no mention of anything implying anything but that Tony inherited everything, and that Stane was his guardian, but not able to touch any of the inheritance himself. Even the company had to be run in accordance with the long term goals mentioned at every Board meeting. 

Tony felt his eyes fill, and quickly set it aside. The next was another will, from a year previously. It said the exact same thing. So did the next one, and the next. There were five in total, and it appeared that Howard had updated his will every year, with the only change being Stane having first authority over things like schooling instead of Maria at age 13. Tony assumed that was the age where Howard considered Stane’s business understanding to trump Maria’s mothering instinct in deciding what would best prepare Tony for being an adult. 

“The will that was enacted, it was made public, wasn’t it?” Steve asked, his voice hesitant.

Tony nodded before trying his voice. “Yeah. First to the Board, so that everyone knew Stane was in charge, then to the tabloids because someone couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Plus I was suddenly unable to be a jet-setter like other society children. I couldn’t pay for things like bespoke suits and flash cars, even though my credit card had previously had a limit higher than my new yearly allowance. Finally the whole thing came out, because people were asking all sorts of questions that implied Stane had stolen it from me. He did eventually, but not until people had ceased to care. At the time he was ‘simply managing it, in accordance with my old friend’s will’.” Even through his digust, he managed to get Stane’s tone. Steve huffed in anger. 

“So what if we hint to the new CEO that they remodel, but have the papers back in place first?” He suggested, and Tony hummed. 

“Damaging, but what’s the point? He’ll be gone by then, and I’m not going to suddenly re-appear and claim it.” He asked.

“Just to show people what was done. Destroy the last of his credibility. Take down the lawyers Stane conspired with, since we’ve got nothing specific on them yet.” Steve answered, and Tony shrugged.

“Point. We’ll see, I guess.” He laid the last one down carefully with his picture and the others in the ‘keep’ pile.

Next up was a schematic for a better arc reactor. The technology was too advanced for its time, but it wasn’t as complete as what Tony had heard about in the lunchroom. He put it in the ‘keep’ pile anyway.

Next was a pile of business reports with certain transactions underlined. Tony didn’t see anything startling in the numbers, but Steve drew in a breath anyway. Tony tilted his head to the side, nudging his lover to share his thoughts. “Payouts.” Steve answered. “Zola is the contractor now, but that’s only because Zemo died in an… altercation, about five years ago. It was one of our first run ins with Hydra. They were trying to expand, and were courting SHIELD.” Tony didn’t have to look back to see the humourless shark’s grin on Steve’s face. “Stane was signing off on them, even then. It looks like your father discovered something about it. That certainly lends credence to your assassination theory.” He kissed Tony’s cheek, trying to offer some comfort.

Tony wasn’t listening. The last page was obviously not supposed to be included, and had just somehow managed to wedge itself in the paperclip holding the reports together.

It was a letter.

Addressed to Tony.

He dropped his head back on Steve’s shoulder and closed his eyes, holding it up for the other man to see clearly even as he dropped the rest of the papers in the ‘keep’ pile.

Steve was quiet for a moment. “Would you like me to read it to you?”

Tony hummed non-committedly for a moment, and Steve let him think. “Please?” He finally asked, quietly. “I don’t… I’d rather hear it in your voice first. His is always so hard in my memory.” He admitted, and Steve just clutched him tighter.

He cleared his throat, then began:

“Tony,

I regret that I will be unable to attend your science fair this weekend. I cannot acceptably explain why, except that it is both classified and highly important. Indeed, I will scarcely see my couch at work this week, let alone my bed at home.

I assure you, if it were anything but the particular project it is, I would of course be there to cheer as you win. I am certain you will. I have seen the designs for your robot, as you left them on the kitchen table after breakfast a few weeks ago, and I highly doubt anyone else in high school could even understand them, let alone design and build them. 

I look forward to the point when we both have the time to sit down with the schematics and the robot itself to discuss them. Coming from your mind, I’m sure the results will be far more interesting than even your original design implied. I’m so proud of what you can do, my son. Of everything I’ve ever been involved in, you are the greatest and best of them all.

Love, your father

It was signed Howard Stark in the same hand as the letter, proving that he’d written it himself, not had his PA write it, or even just dictated it.

Tony was sobbing silently, and Steve tugged the paper out of his hand before turning Tony into his chest. Tony flung his arms around Steve’s back and clung. He distantly thought that Steve would probably have bruises from his fingers, but he didn’t care at the moment. All he cared about were the arms cradling him, the chest supporting him, and the voice trying desperately to comfort him. It was Steve, here, with him. Steve holding him, not judging, but just being, trying to help in any way he could. His Steve, who loved him, and whom he loved. 

He dropped any shield of pride and collapsed fully into Steve, crying like a baby and just not caring.  
*  
Steve held Tony while the smaller man sobbed, rubbing his back with one hand and murmuring comforting nonsense until he started calming down. Finally the crying stopped, a final violent shiver signalling the end. Tony was quiet, after, and Steve wondered if he had fallen asleep. He had just decided to tuck him in for the night when Tony spoke.

“We were fighting when they died, you know. Me and Dad. Dad and Mom. And Mom and I were pissed off enough in general that we weren’t really talking either. All about the same thing, too. About Dad not making it to my Senior Science Fair. It’s held in August, so the smart kids who don’t party have something to do during the summer. It felt like we were arguing about different things during that fight, too. Then they died, and I was frustrated, and sad, and lonely, and heading off to university at fifteen, but there was no one left to impress with that, you know? He must have thought the letter got sent, only it didn’t, and we weren’t talking…” He trailed off without making a point, and Steve just gave him a squeeze. There was nothing, he knew, that ever made a death easier but time. But to have gotten time, and then gotten shoved back into the mindset from when it happened… It was a hard thing, and he wished Tony wasn’t going through it. He hated it when Tony was hurting, even just a papercut or thinking about Stane. This was so much more.

“He was never one to say what he thought was obvious.” Tony finally continued, taking a deep, shuddery breath. “He always wrote out the most meticulous instructions, however. I think the first bit was a celebrity thing, and the second bit was an engineer thing. He didn’t want to be misquoted, so went out of his way to give people as little as possible to quote him on. It was advice he gave me after I got in a screaming match with a reporter over his insistence of holding a design upside down, then was misquoted and cast as a surly brat. I was five, it was my third interview that day, and he was convinced he could read my design since, again, I was five. In notes, though, my father’d write down everything that came to his head. That way there was a full record of his train of thought while inventing. Plus it meant that R&D could tell what he’d been getting at when they looked at his designs.” The way he said it, this wasn’t an idle comment. Steve held Tony, kept his mouth shut, and waited for the other shoe to drop.

And oh, did it ever drop. “He never said he loved me, never said he was proud of me. He just… told me what I was doing wrong. Criticised me. Corrected me. I thought… I mean, silent as he was, I’d have known if he’d just told me, even once. But he didn’t, so I thought he didn’t love me, that I was a disappointment to him. He wrote it, though. He didn’t even seem to think twice about writing it. The letter just flows, you know? So that means that all those years he loved me and was proud of me, and I never had any idea!” He sounded near hysterical, though the tears were still gone. Steve was in over his head. He didn’t have a clue what to do when people got like this. He kissed Tony’s cheekbone a little desperately, hoping the sensation would ground him.

It seemed to work, if Tony tilting his head up to accept the next kiss was any indication. At the very least, he didn’t look like he was going to start crying again. At this point, Steve would count that as a win.

He kissed Tony, once, five times, a dozen times, more. Short, soft little things that were more like a promise made physical than a true kiss. Tony just accepted them, passively. It wasn’t his usual state, but he didn’t seem to be in distress any more either. His breaths were even, his heartbeat was coming in time with Steve’s, and his muscles were loose under Steve’s hands. He drew back slowly, and Tony fluttered his eyes open.

“I love you.”

He hadn’t planned on saying that, but was glad he did. Tony’s eyes darkened hungrily, but a soft smile came to his lips. “Say that again.”

He was powerless against that tone, replying before he could even think about it. “I love you.”

“Again.” Tony demanded, pushing Steve onto his back and shoving the papers off the bed.

“I love you.” He pushed up to feather a soft kiss onto Tony’s lips. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Tony shuddered then, a motion so familiar after months of getting that reaction from him that Steve couldn’t help responding. “I love you.” They were both hard now, and Tony was pinning him to the bed and kissing him hungrily. 

If this was what Tony needed, he’d give it to him. Steve rolled his body up in a long wave that started at his head and ended with his toes, grinding his whole body against Tony and kissing back. Tony made a choked sound, then attacked his shirt, kissing all the while. 

Steve steadied Tony’s greedy hands, allowing his shirt to come free without destroying anything. He then turned his attention to Tony’s shirt, finding it unfair that his body was still hidden.

He’d barely gotten his hands on Tony’s chest before he felt clever fingers, their dexterity apparently back, opening his pants. They were tugged down, his briefs accompanying, just enough for his cock to spring free. He panted as cool air met heated skin, then groaned when it became apparent that Tony had already dealt with his own clothing. Now he was dressed in nothing but Steve’s oversized button-up, the sides floating free around him, while Steve was still in all of his clothes, just pushed to the side far enough to count. 

Tony kissed him again, his mouth fierce and almost desperate. Steve tried to gentle it, but Tony was having none of it. He hesitated, not sure what to do. They’d had harsh sex, or course they had. Their first time had been all about a shared power kink, and they’d certainly played around with it since. It wasn’t that different from when Steve came back from a touchy mission, and just needed touch.

It was different, though, and he knew that. Steve regretfully pulled away, preparing to say something, just as Tony impaled himself on Steve’s dick.

Heat. Tight. Just barely damp enough… It was incredibly distracting, but the tears that sprang to Tony’s eyes were even more attention-grabbing. They glittered on his lashes as he tried to blink them away, but Steve stared at them almost uncomprehendingly. Then Tony started to move, and Steve sprung into action, grabbing his hips to hold him still.

He was still loose from earlier, but that had been a few hours, and Tony’s earlier shower had washed away all the slicker evidence that would make this easier on him. Steve’s heart hurt as he realized just what it was Tony was doing. That… was not something he was going to let Tony do to himself.

Steve carefully flipped them, making sure Tony wasn’t jostled before he could adjust. He moved his hands up to cup Tony’s face, bracing his weight on his elbows and hips to keep Tony pinned without squashing him. 

Tony tried to wiggle, to get some leverage, but Steve wasn’t letting him go anywhere. He kissed away the droplets still clinging to the smaller man’s lashes while crooning soft noises meant to sooth. Tony finally settled, though his taut body proved he wasn’t happy about it. 

Steve kissed him again. “You’re amazing. This is amazing.” He kissed Tony’s temple. “So is this.” He dropped a kiss on his chest, just over his heart. “And this, too.” He pulled one of Tony’s hands up to his mouth and kissed each finger, getting him a confused laugh. “You’re just incredible, and I love you very much.” He kissed Tony’s cheek again, willing him to understand. “You’re precious to me, and no one gets to hurt you. Not Stane, with his plots, or your Father, with ghosts from the past. Not the others, the police, the SI board, no one. Not even me.” He kissed his forehead. “And not you, either. Definitely not you using me to hurt you. Did you think about how that would make me feel, Tony?” He had tears in his own eyes, and Tony looked off to the side to avoid his gaze. It was answer enough. “I’ll give you anything you want, Tony, you know that, but please don’t ask me to do that. If you really need it, I’ll do it. But please, let me do this my way?” He kissed the presented cheek. “Let me show you my love my way? Please, Tony?” He was begging now, but he didn’t care. “Please?”

Tony gave a single nod still looking to the side, and closed his eyes. He was utterly still under Steve, and his erection was only barely still able to be called that. Steve let loose a heavy sigh, then kissed Tony’s cheek again. 

He rocked his hips carefully, not withdrawing, just shifting inside. Tony let his mouth fall open, taking deep, shallow breaths. He did it again, and felt Tony’s dick take an interest again. He nosed behind Tony’s jaw, trying not to think of how Tony had tried to take his orgasm from him without giving a thought to himself and his own enjoyment. He didn’t want that. Never that.

Could he…? He shifted, managing to get his knees under him and his arms around Tony’s shoulders without jarring Tony too much. He still wasn’t sure if Tony was really ready for movement. He pulled Tony up with him as he sat back, then left him sitting up as he fell back to the sheets himself. It was took work, but he managed to get his knees up and his feet braced so Tony was able to drape himself over Steve’s thighs and prop himself up on Steve’s knees.

“Steve?” He asked hesitantly, his eyes still closed. Steve smiled at the unexpectedly sweet picture he made, head thrown back and muscles softly rippling as he settled into the new position.

“Just let me, love.” He spread his hand over Tony’s stomach, feeling the definition that still startled him every now and again. “Let me do this. I’ve got this. I love you.”

A small amount of tension that he hadn’t even known was still in Tony’s body drained out, and Steve smiled. The hand on Tony’s stomach he ghosted up to tease lightly over nipples and sensitive skin, occasionally drifting as high as his throat or as low as his belly button. The other traced over Tony’s features, following the line of his cheekbone and ruffling the carefully maintained goatee. Tony made a small, annoyed noise when it was stroked against the grain, but almost purred a hum when it was petted back down. 

He ran the hand down from Tony’s face to his cock, touching it as lightly as the rest of his skin. Long strokes with his fingertips got him a heavy sigh, and Steve switched his attentions from his shaft to the head, earning a surprised squeak. 

Other than those little noises, Tony was staying uncharacteristically quiet. His body, however, was making up for his total passiveness, eagerly asserting its interest in the goings on. He was hard again, red and flushed. Happy that Tony was now at least as interested in the proceedings as he was, the blonde started rolling his hips in time with his strokes.

Tony’s body rolled with him, the smaller man obviously not letting any strength back into his own body. Steve dropped his second hand to give it a good lick before moving it to join its partner on Tony’s cock. The brunette jerked at that, but quickly went back to his sweet passivity, much to Steve’s delight. He shifted his unlubed hand to play with Tony’s sack, fondling it and slipping his fingers around to press at his perineum and stroke the soft, delicate skin there.

Whimpers were falling from Tony’s mouth now, and there was liquid leaking from his cock. Steve swiped at it, then moved both hands to the smaller man’s hips. A thin cry was torn from him at the unexpected feel of wet fingertips just over the swell of his ass. Steve smirked, glad his plan had worked. He used his grip to lift Tony slightly before lowering him again. There was no resistance, no pained clenching or twitches, so Steve did it again, and then again.

He kept the pace slow, fucking Tony carefully on himself. His partner’s even breaths had shortened to quiet gasps and he made needy, encouraging noises in the back of his throat. Steve didn’t speed up, though he did deepen the strokes enough strike Tony’s prostrate instead of just gliding over it. Tony whined in the back of his throat, but Steve didn’t give in to the temptation to go harder or faster. That wasn’t what this was about.

He was going to take the time to fuck every thought and care out of Tony, then curl up with him and hold him all night. And if, in the morning, Tony was still all tore up, he’d do it again, breathing out assurances and promises the whole time.

“I love you. I love you, Tony. You’re incredible. You’re brilliant, and you’re tough, and you care about us, and you’re so proud of your designs, and you can’t cook, but your pout is deadly, and you’re charming and witty, and you’re gorgeous, and you’re kind, and you’re wonderful. I love you.” He kept going, fucking Tony long and sweet, until he could feel a different kind of tension winding Tony into a knot. He kept going until Tony was shivering and almost begging, stopped only by his current inability to form words. Then he sat up, suddenly, and pulled Tony down hard. His stomach pressed against Tony’s, trapping his erection between them, and bit down gently on his favourite spot just under Tony’s ear. Tony wailed and came, splashing all over both of them. All his inner muscles clamped down, and the orgasm Steve hadn’t even noticed building punched through him and he fell back to the bed, pulling Tony with him.

They panted together for a moment before Steve got enough of his brain back to form a sentence. “I love you.” 

Tony hummed and kissed his cheek, just like Steve had done earlier. “I love you, too.”

They were sticky and sweaty and still dressed, but Steve found he didn’t care. All he could manage was to flip them over so at least Tony wasn’t going to get cold, then started to drift off.

“Thank you.” Came Tony’s voice, soft and wondering, just as he was on the edge of sleep. Steve smiled, then slept.


End file.
